


Lone Star Past

by Unknown_Artist_94



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen, I put as teen for the bit of blood, Kinda sad stuff, Minor blood warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-18 11:07:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19333318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unknown_Artist_94/pseuds/Unknown_Artist_94
Summary: This is a small tidbit of Texas' past. It doesn't at all cover all he has done in the past as he has done many thing's he regrets.There will be mistakes so sorry bout that.





	Lone Star Past

Ok so with Texas’ Glasses it does not represent him but who he’s a part of. If my memory serves me right the republic of Texas willingly joined the US the only state to do so. So his glasses represent who owns his land (not including Spain since I HC Texas formed after the Mexican Revolution)  
So here’s a small story.

 

Mexico sat in the fields of blue. The battle was won, it was over with. He didn’t have to worry about Spain any longer. He sat in the field of the upper part of his land. His vision has gotten blurrier and blurrier since he’s won. He rubbed his eyes confused, he’s had perfect vision before. Strange.   
Mexico stood up to start his way back home but something felt off. He stood there for a moment wary and tired. He walked to where it felt like it was coming from. A grove of trees tall and thick. A soft voice singing a song he didn’t know as he walked forward.   
“Hello?” Mexico asked. The singing stopped. He froze, he didn’t know what to do. He listened for movement but there was none.  
“Hello!” A small voice chirped. Mexico screamed and jumped back. He looked down to see a little boy with messy brown hair that looked like a rat’s nest, like it was never brushed. Mexico frowned, who would let a child out in the forest.   
The boy stared up at Mexico before taking a pair of glasses off the rim of his shirt. “Down down” The boy commanded. Mexico kneeled down and the boy put the glasses on Mexico’s face. He didn’t know what to say but they fit. The glasses actually made him see better than before. The boy laughed and giggled. Before climbing up on Mexico.   
Mexico picked up the boy to realize the outfit he wore was like the one he wore long ago, when Spain first found him.   
“What’s your name?” Mexico asked. The boy thought before loudly declaring “¡Tejas!” Mexico smiled. “Well Tejas, do you want to come with me?”   
“Yeah yeah yeah!!” The young boy cheered. 

Many years later, the young boy dressed in warm clothes snuck into his father’s room. He moved silently to his bedside. He took and left one thing before slinking out of the room undisturbed.   
The next morning Mexico awoke and discovered what was left. A simple note  
‘Lo siento, adiós.   
Tejas’  
Simple writing for the child he knew. His son was long gone by morning despite everyone in the city looking for the child he was gone. Mexico had lost his son and reserved the declaration of independence a few days after. He sat in his son’s room, he left books, clothes, paintings. Everything for something he probably never understood. 

The Alamo, Mexico didn’t know who was inside but he knew they were on the opposite side. It was hours upon around but they finally got in. He personally walked threw the chaos, the dead and right into the church. The women and children were huddled in fear as he walked in. He stared at them all before asking, “where is my son” he asked coldly. He could feel the pull of the young country. He was here somewhere. The women stayed quiet. The children where petrified.   
He took aim with his gun, “Wait” someone spoke. Voice raspy and pained but a young boy stood from the crowd. He held his hand over a blood soaked bandage over his chest and one tied around his arm. His face pained but his hazel eyes were recognizable, dull but he could tell they belonged to his son.   
He stumbled forward, the women helping the boy keep balance and not trip over his own two feet. He held his hand over his chest, his face was blood stained and tired.   
Mexico buried his guilt and pain and picked him off the ground. He held the boy close to his chest and walking right out of the Alamo. As they past the dead, the boy sobbed quietly muttering names of people who had died or where on death’s doorstep. Mexico finally sat behind a tree out of everyone’s sight.   
His character finally breaking as he held the dying child.   
“Why” he repeated over and over. The young boy couldn’t reply for a moment before he coughed up some blood and spoke softly, “lo siento” he uttered closing his eyes. He was too tired to fight death any longer.   
He wanted to rest.   
Mexico panicked trying to wake his son, but he only groaned. “Don’t apologize, please don’t let the last world you speak to me be an apology for something you can not control!” He shouted.  
The boy opened his eyes a little, just a sliver before speaking just above a whisper, “te amo, buenas noches” he muttered sleepily, closing his eyes again. Mexico sat there curled up crying with his child.   
Soon Texas body faded away. 

A week later he woke up in a field of blue standing up dressed in all white he ran and ran, he needed to know. 

 

The war cries were startling, the battle was swift. It didn’t take long until it was all said and done.  
Mexico and Santa Anna where tossed in a carriage and hauled up state.   
Texas sat in the carriage behind Mexico. He tried to move to look at him but it was hard to focus when the man next to him was cursing up a storm. 

 

The boy stood in Washington D.C. looking at the buildings as the generals discussed what would happen to Santa Anna. The boy wanted no part of it, or the man’s possible death. The boy with messy brown hair and brown eyes stared at the buildings and people. He wore his glasses now, it was no longer Mexico who was in control of his land but it was him who controlled it.   
He watched the people as he walked, in Mexico City he was never allowed out of his father’s sight but now he could walk anywhere as long as he was back in time for supper.   
He noticed something about the town. There were many people, mostly white. Texas felt out of place with darker skin. He had reformed, why didn’t he look like everyone else? Why didn’t he look like General Huston? Or Mr Austin?   
General Huston that night explained to him the many different people of the world and how everyone looked different and the boy was no exception. 

 

Nine years past the boy was now a little taller, now only 9 when the last time he was in the capital of the United States he was barley 7. But now he was becoming a state. The 28th state. He stood in the room as the president talked legal. He never understood legal talk not to mention English was always hard for him to understand. Texas looked over at the tall lanky man in the corner. He was the personification of the United States of America. The boy sucked in a deep breath and quietly made his way over to the blonde man. He needed to do this, it was time to finally get what his people wanted. He tugged on the personification’s sleeve and asked him to talk in another room.   
The boy took off his glasses his vision slightly blurred but improving as the seconds ticked. He offered them to America. He spoke as he did, “the glasses represent me, I’m no longer in possession of my land so the glasses are yours now” The boy explained with a heavy Mexican accent, it still hadn’t gone away even when being around general Huston and the other Texan presidents. America looked at the small gift before kneeling down to the brown haired boy’s level.   
“Gracias.” The American spoke, having been studied the Spanish language once he caught word the young country would soon be a state. In and attempt to make the child feel more welcomed since he had trouble with English. He gently put on the glasses his vision almost instantly improving after a couple on blinks.   
“I have something for you as well” America smiled reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a small leather bound notebook.   
“It’s not much but your boss told me you’ve always loved writing about all the animals and flowers you have seen in your land and I thought to give you something to keep it all more organized.” The American smiled. The boy took it and inspecting it, thin tan figures and brown eyes expecting every detail of the notebook. He smiled and wrapped his arms around the American’s neck. Excited to start his writings again since he had left all his old books back in Mexico City and never had the time to get another notebook or the courage to ask for his old ones back. 

The Mexican-American War. Texas got caught in the fire and shot. He wasn’t supposed to be in the field but he had gotten there by accident. Still with the body of a ten year old he barely held on. The enemy troops stormed past his weak body as he curled trying not to be stepped on. He felt the shadow of someone over him and saw a gun drop to the trampled grass. He recognized the face above him, it was the one of his father. Not America but Mexico. Mexico scooped the boy up and held him to his chest for the second time he would watch his son die. Once at the Alamo and now on the field. Mexico stood and walked. Texas didn’t care where, he would be dead before nightfall.  
“Lo siento, padre” Texas managed to say. Mexico hushed him. Mexico stood in a field of blue and sat down among them. Mexico held the boy.  
“Don’t waste your energy Tejas. Just rest” Mexico pleased.  
“Don’t worry” The boy smiled blood running down his chin, “I’ll be back” The boy smiled before coughing. “Lo siento, padre” the boy muttered his eyes closing.   
“Don’t be sorry Tejas, don’t be sorry” Mexico repeated. Texas has passed out from the pain leaving Mexico to hold him has he died. It wasn’t long until the boy’s body faded leaving nothing but the small notebook.   
Mexico gently picked up and read it’s contents. Notes of different animals and plants. The descriptions and names written in Spanish and English, sometimes only Spanish other in English. On other pages on alternating sentences or adding a Spanish word into an English sentence. Mexico read each page carefully until one of his men came to get him. Mexico after the war went to his son’s room and placed the notebook on the shelf of others. 

Years past until the civil war. At the end when the confederate states of America personification was shot dead and the war efforts were put to rest Mexico sent a letter to Alfred, asking of his son’s heath. He waited 3 months but finally he got a letter from America. In the latter he got an address and two pieces of paper. One from America and one from Texas, his son. America’s letter contained a photo of the Southern bell with a smile and what seemed to be brand new clothes and a horse. Texas was no doubt happy to be back in the arms of America and no longer under the control of Confederate. He had met him once in a meeting and he could tell he was bad. The letter from Texas was far longer and had a lot of emotion in the scribbled out half words and sentences he didn’t want to be read, but Mexico deciphered them anyway. In the letter Texas wrote of how he was doing better and many tales of what he had done but at the end, hurt Mexico but he understood the child still held grief and pain from his revolution. He wasn’t ready to meet Mexico again, at least at the moment. But Mexico was okay with that. He could wait, and he could write. It consistent, letters going back and forth and he kept each one. As technology progressed Texas shared pictures of places he visited and things he got. Most of them where of his pets, a long horn, armadillo and a diamond back rattle snake. He wasn’t sure how Alfred allowed the last one. But Mexico could wait and wait until Texas was ready to meet him again. It wasn’t like he couldn’t get stories from Alfred, he had the man’s number he couldn’t count how many embarrassing stories America has shared with Mexico despite their government’s current dispute. The government could take a hike. Mexico was content with letters from his son and stories from America and soon Canada shared one of Texas’ displeasures with snow, as well as cold in general. Mexico could wait. He was happy with what he could get. But he could wait until he could see his son in person once again. 

 

Okay, not so short.


End file.
